Pressing my lips together I stared, lifting my brows for him to continue.
“As I was saying, Randall’s debt grew. He tried to work a deal with the gentleman who loaned him the money. These types of gentlemen are not interested in deals and they don’t take kindly to unpaid debts.
“Randall came to me for help. I have money that I can lend. The thing is…” He paused. “…I don’t need it. Therefore, I decided that in exchange for the money, I wanted something else…” He reached for my knee. “…something less conventional in return. You see, since my wife passed, I have found myself in need of companionship. I have a reputation, and there’s nothing like a pretty, sexy young thing like you to send the world of stuck-up assholes into a frenzy. I want them to talk and notice; however, I don’t want to feed the paparazzi. A young wife is better than the string of dates or dealing with hired women to fill the roles I desire.”
Did he equate the two? A wife or a prostitute? My voice raised an octave or two. “I’m not a whore. I cannot be bought.”
“You are not a whore, and I don’t mean to insinuate that you are. However, anyone can be bought. You come from a socially acceptable family, and though young, you can be taught to deal with those stuck-up assholes. And, because you’re young, you can be trained to fulfill my requirements.”
No longer able to sit, I stood and paced about the large room. “This is ridiculous. I’m not for sale, and I’m not a dog. I won’t be trained.”
“Victoria, I assure you, you’re not a dog. Bestiality is not my thing. As I said, you’re not a whore, but once you agree to this marriage, you will be my whore.”
“I don’t understand. I’m not selling myself to save Randall or Marilyn. They wouldn’t lift a finger for me. Why would I do this for them?”
“Didn’t you wonder why they weren’t willing to pay for your continued education?”
“No,” I answered unequivocally. “I know why.”
Stewart lifted his eyebrow in question.
“They hate me and everything about me. That’s fine, I don’t need them. I have a job arranged.”
“At a small insurance company, as a receptionist, making a little over minimum wage.”
My mouth opened. I hadn’t shared my job with anyone—anyone except Val. “How do you know about that? How do you know so much about my family?”
“Vic-tor-ia,” he said, standing and drawing out the three syllables. “I wouldn’t be offering you this opportunity if I hadn’t had you thoroughly investigated. I know everything there is to know about you. I can’t have a wife with skeletons in her closet.”
“I’m not marrying you.”
Coming closer, his words slowed. “Because a studio apartment and minimum wage is better than living between this penthouse and my estate just outside the city limits? Or because you don’t want to help your sister?”
What did he know about my sister? Val meant everything to me. I would do anything for my younger sister. After all, it wasn’t like our parents cared. We were all each other had. Keeping my eyes away from Stewart’s smug expression, I asked, “What do you know about my sister?” Before he could respond, I walked toward the windows; the ocean was rough with white-capped waves glistening out toward the horizon.
Stewart’s voice came from behind me, his tone steadfast in his knowledge. “I know everything about both of you. I know everything about your no-good stepfather, your mother, and their spoiled boys. I even know about your biological father.”
Tears unexpectedly filled my eyes. Despite my better judgment I turned back toward this man who had many more answers than I imagined. “I haven’t heard from him, ever. My mother said he hasn’t contacted her since Val was little. What do you know about him?”
Grasping my shoulders, his large hands ignited my skin as his knowledge and power flowed through his touch. For just a split second, concern showed in the depths of his blue eyes. “I know he doesn’t need to be your concern.” Maintaining his grip, he continued, “Now, to your other questions. I know that Valerie won’t be able to stay at the academy for her senior year of high school nor will her post-high-school education be paid. I know that you have every reason to hate your parents, and perhaps you do, but you don’t hate their boys, your half-brothers. I know you don’t want them to lose their home and very likely their parents.”
“What do you mean?”
“Those men to whom Randall owes the money—they won’t accept less than payment in full. If they don’t get it soon, Randall’s life will pacify them for a short time. It’ll appear like an accident, but it will happen. How do you think your mother will handle that? Do you really want to be responsible for his life?”
Did I? It wouldn’t be the first life I’d been blamed for taking, yet would it end at Randall? Did I care? Did I care if my mother drank herself into oblivion? I didn’t know. Then again, what about Marcus and Lyle? What about Val? What would happen to them?
“Stewart, I don’t even know you…” my words trailed away as I turned back to the window. Randall and my mother could dive into the ocean as far as I was concerned, but the boys? They’re still so young… and Val? One more year before her future can begin. It was too much—too much to comprehend.
Fighting the emotional overload, I closed my eyes and tried to grasp what had just happened. As I did, Stewart’s warmth alerted me that he was directly behind me. With my overwrought nerves, I startled when his hands brushed my arms.
“As I was saying, Randall’s debt grew. He tried to work a deal with the gentleman who loaned him the money. These types of gentlemen are not interested in deals and they don’t take kindly to unpaid debts.
“Randall came to me for help. I have money that I can lend. The thing is…” He paused. “…I don’t need it. Therefore, I decided that in exchange for the money, I wanted something else…” He reached for my knee. “…something less conventional in return. You see, since my wife passed, I have found myself in need of companionship. I have a reputation, and there’s nothing like a pretty, sexy young thing like you to send the world of stuck-up assholes into a frenzy. I want them to talk and notice; however, I don’t want to feed the paparazzi. A young wife is better than the string of dates or dealing with hired women to fill the roles I desire.”
Did he equate the two? A wife or a prostitute? My voice raised an octave or two. “I’m not a whore. I cannot be bought.”
“You are not a whore, and I don’t mean to insinuate that you are. However, anyone can be bought. You come from a socially acceptable family, and though young, you can be taught to deal with those stuck-up assholes. And, because you’re young, you can be trained to fulfill my requirements.”
No longer able to sit, I stood and paced about the large room. “This is ridiculous. I’m not for sale, and I’m not a dog. I won’t be trained.”
“Victoria, I assure you, you’re not a dog. Bestiality is not my thing. As I said, you’re not a whore, but once you agree to this marriage, you will be my whore.”
“I don’t understand. I’m not selling myself to save Randall or Marilyn. They wouldn’t lift a finger for me. Why would I do this for them?”
“Didn’t you wonder why they weren’t willing to pay for your continued education?”
“No,” I answered unequivocally. “I know why.”
Stewart lifted his eyebrow in question.
“They hate me and everything about me. That’s fine, I don’t need them. I have a job arranged.”
“At a small insurance company, as a receptionist, making a little over minimum wage.”
My mouth opened. I hadn’t shared my job with anyone—anyone except Val. “How do you know about that? How do you know so much about my family?”
“Vic-tor-ia,” he said, standing and drawing out the three syllables. “I wouldn’t be offering you this opportunity if I hadn’t had you thoroughly investigated. I know everything there is to know about you. I can’t have a wife with skeletons in her closet.”
“I’m not marrying you.”
Coming closer, his words slowed. “Because a studio apartment and minimum wage is better than living between this penthouse and my estate just outside the city limits? Or because you don’t want to help your sister?”
What did he know about my sister? Val meant everything to me. I would do anything for my younger sister. After all, it wasn’t like our parents cared. We were all each other had. Keeping my eyes away from Stewart’s smug expression, I asked, “What do you know about my sister?” Before he could respond, I walked toward the windows; the ocean was rough with white-capped waves glistening out toward the horizon.
Stewart’s voice came from behind me, his tone steadfast in his knowledge. “I know everything about both of you. I know everything about your no-good stepfather, your mother, and their spoiled boys. I even know about your biological father.”
Tears unexpectedly filled my eyes. Despite my better judgment I turned back toward this man who had many more answers than I imagined. “I haven’t heard from him, ever. My mother said he hasn’t contacted her since Val was little. What do you know about him?”
Grasping my shoulders, his large hands ignited my skin as his knowledge and power flowed through his touch. For just a split second, concern showed in the depths of his blue eyes. “I know he doesn’t need to be your concern.” Maintaining his grip, he continued, “Now, to your other questions. I know that Valerie won’t be able to stay at the academy for her senior year of high school nor will her post-high-school education be paid. I know that you have every reason to hate your parents, and perhaps you do, but you don’t hate their boys, your half-brothers. I know you don’t want them to lose their home and very likely their parents.”
“What do you mean?”
“Those men to whom Randall owes the money—they won’t accept less than payment in full. If they don’t get it soon, Randall’s life will pacify them for a short time. It’ll appear like an accident, but it will happen. How do you think your mother will handle that? Do you really want to be responsible for his life?”
Did I? It wouldn’t be the first life I’d been blamed for taking, yet would it end at Randall? Did I care? Did I care if my mother drank herself into oblivion? I didn’t know. Then again, what about Marcus and Lyle? What about Val? What would happen to them?
“Stewart, I don’t even know you…” my words trailed away as I turned back to the window. Randall and my mother could dive into the ocean as far as I was concerned, but the boys? They’re still so young… and Val? One more year before her future can begin. It was too much—too much to comprehend.
Fighting the emotional overload, I closed my eyes and tried to grasp what had just happened. As I did, Stewart’s warmth alerted me that he was directly behind me. With my overwrought nerves, I startled when his hands brushed my arms.
